Love In Paradise
by Kiki102
Summary: It was Catherine's fault. She'd topped his drink up all night without his knowledge. And now he's gone and put his foot in it. Again. Richard/Camille
1. Chapter 1

**Hi :)**

**So, new category, new story! I loved Death in Paradise and am so pleased they've commissioned a second series. I love the chemistry between Richard and Camille. Anyway, one I have to apologise if there are any spelling mistakes, for some reason fanfiction will not let me preview a chapter in document uploader on my laptop. Technology, the joys! And two, I know this is pretty unlikely, but I wanted to write it. Originally I had Richard drinking that much on his own but that wouldn't happen, so I stole an idea from real life when my uncle was continuously topping up my dad's drink without him knowing. Please review and let me know what you think :)**

**Christina x**

**I own nothing!**

**XOXOXOX**

Groaning at the headache which was pounding a meregue in his forehead, three things ran through DI Richard Poole's head. One, how had he ended up drinking so much the night before, two, why did he suddenly smell spices, and three, or the first time he'd slept comfortably without waking up due to the heat. Although that could've also had something to do with number one, the amount he'd drunk the night before.

As far as he could remember, he'd only bought one drink, and only intended to have one drink. Catherine it turned out, had other ideas. Unbeknown to Richard, every time his drink was nearly finished, she was topping it up again. He remained unaware until it was time to leave although by that point things were a little hazy.

Groaning again he sat up, with a sudden realisation that one, he was not wearing his pyjammas (solving one mystery), and two that he wasn't alone. Recognising the spices smell, he risked a glance to his right and confirmed his suspicions. Just visable beneath a mess of brown curls was the face of DS Camille Bordey.

"Oh no," he muttered. "No, no, no..."

Camille felt the matress shift, waking her. Pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes, she rolled over before seeing the retreating, albeit in her opinion very handsome, back of Richard Poole.

"Good morning," she smiled.

With one trouser leg on and one off, Richard froze.

"Morning," he replied without turning around.

"What are you doing?" Camille asked.

"I'm getting dressed."

"Why?"

"It's morning. And we have work."

"No we don't."

"Well, I have a lot of paperwork to do so I thought I'd head in and make a start."

"Oh." Camille tried to keep the disappointment from her voice, while Richard tried to subtly pull on his other trouser leg.

"Camille?" he said, picking up a shirt.

"Yes?"

"Did we... I mean, last night..." He turned to face her. "Did we sleep together?"

"Considering the evidence, I'd say so," she replied, indicating to the fact that beneath the sheet that covered her, she wasn't wearing anything. Richard decided against pointing out that she'd told him once that she slept naked.

"Right... Well Camille I'm sorry."

"I'm not," she said, looking him up and down and deciding that she liked seeing him with his shirt undone. "Why are you?"

"Well, I mean, we... We can't work. We'd never work," he said.

"Why not?" Camille frowned, sitting up and pulling the sheet up under her arms.

"For one thing it's against regulations."

"So?"

"Camille..."

"Look," she interupted. "We would never have slept together unless we had some sort of feelings for each other, right? I like you. Do you like me?"

She waited as Richard did a very accurate impression of a goldfish.

"It's a simple question," she continued.

"Hardly!"

"Alright, do you think I'm attractive?"

"Of course. Anyone could see that."

"Well then, do you enjoy spending time with me?"

"When you're not being French."

"So do you like me?"

He hesitated again before replying quietly, "Yes."

"So why wouldn't we work?"

"We just wouldn't."

Camille looked away, trying to supress the hurt that rose with his rejection, correction, his latest rejection. Awkward silence filled the room.

"I should go," Richard said eventually.

"Me too," Camille agreed.

XOXOXOX

Everyone could see that Camille was in a bad mood. Richard tried to convince himself it was just a conicidence that it started the day after they'd woken up together, but he knew he was lying to himself.

"Man, what is up with her?" Dwayne asked after Camille had yelled at them and stormed out. "All I did was point out the truth."

"She's been like that all week," Fidel said. "I asked her if she knew where the autopsy report was yesterday and she bit my head off."

"Maybe she got dumped," Dwayne mused.

"And maybe, we should mind our own business," Richard said.

"I am just following a police officer's inquisitive instincts," Dwayne argued.

"You were just being nosey you mean."

"Shut up!" Dwayne warned Fidel when he snorted with laughter, pointing an accusatory finger towards him.

Three days later and Richard knew he had to face the music. The source of Camille's bad mood was obvious to him, and Dwayne and Fidel could see the chief getting more and more grumpy than usual, which lead to a very tense atmosphere in the Honoré Police Station. After rapping up the case, but without Richard's usual dramatic reveal of the murderer, Dwayne and Fidel quickly took up Richard's offer of leaving the paperwork for tomorrow and practically ran towards Catherine's bar. Without a glance in Richard's direction, Camille stood up to follow. Taking a deep breath, Richard knew it was now or never.

"Camille?" he called. She hesitated.

"What?" she snapped without turning to face him.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Camille turned and regarded him suspiciously.

"Okay," she replied. "But you're buying."

To her surprise, Richard steered her away from their usual haunt at her mother's bar, instead leading Camille towards another bar a few streets away.

"Why are we going here?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's terrible."

"Well I wanted to talk to you."

"And you can only talk to me here?"

"No."

"Then can't we go back to my mother's?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want your mother coming over every five minutes and interupting us!" he snapped. They stared at each other.

"Fine," Camille replied eventually. "But when you hate it, don't say I didn't warn you."

XOXOXOX

Camille swirled her drink with the plastic swizzle stick, waiting for Richard to say whatever it was he had dragged her here to say. She watched as he took a sip of water, and smiled as he winced slightly at the taste, resisting the urge to say I told you so.

"So..." she said, hoping this would be quick and painless. She knew what he was going to say, that sleeping together had been a mistake, it meant nothing, and they shoul forget it ever happened.

"I made a mistake," he began, looking into his water. She knew it. "The other morning, after we..."

"Had sex?"

"Yes." He glanced quickly into her eyes before looking back at his water. "That morning I made a mistake. Well, at least I think it was a mistake. I said that we would never work, and that I couldn't...have a relationship with you."

"I remember." All too well. But Camille's curiosity was piqued and she wondered were this was going.

"Then all this week you've been, well, in a less than brilliant mood, and you don't need to tell me why, I know why."

"Good." She folded her arms defiantly.

"When I saw you were upset, I didn't like it. I knew it was my fault, so I also I didn't like myself much." He met her eyes, properly, for the first time. "You were upset and even if it wasn't my fault, it would've made me upset. I also made me angry. Angry that I'd hurt you, angry that I was the one causing you pain."

Richard hesitated and returned to looking at his drink. Camille didn't speak, she knew he wasn't finished and besides, she didn't know what to say yet.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry," Richard continued. "I was an idiot. What would I have to do to get a second chance?"

In shock, Camille stared at him. In her wildest dreams she had never imagined him saying any of that. It seemed odd and almost a little out of character. Then she realised exactly what he was saying. Her feelings weren't unrequited.

"Buy me dinner," she replied eventually.

"Is that it?" Richard asked, surprised that it was that easy.

"Buy me dinner at Sebastien's," shee continued.

"I've never heard of it."

"It's a restaurant on the north of the island. A seafood restaurant." Her eyes seemed to be daring him. He swallowed.

"_I don't like seafood. Too much of it still has eyes."_

"Alright," he agreed. "And I'll pay the whole bill."

"Good," Camille nodded. "One more thing."

"What?"

"No tie," she said, pointing at his tie.

"What?" he repeated.

"No tie. You always wear a tie. You have to take me to Sebastien's for dinner and not wear a tie. I would say no suit but I think that might just give you heart attack, so we'll start with the tie." He noticed the mischevous twinkle had returned to her eyes.

"Very well. I'll make the reservation."

"Good," Camille smiled. "Now can we go to my mother's because this place is awful?"

"Yes please," Richard agreed. "Otherwise we might end up with e-coli or something equally appealing. Like cholera."

"You really know how to win a girl over," Camille teased.

XOXOXOX

The next day, Camille was sceptical to weather or not he would actually go through with it, but to her surprise, Richard paused while passing her desk and said, "I'll pick you up a six tomorrow night, alright?" He said it quietly and didn't look at her, but Dwayne and Fidel were in the room, and Dwayne was worse than an old woman when it came to gossiping.

"Perfect," she smiled. "Remember, no tie!"

"How could I forget?" he mumbled, walking towards his desk.


	2. Chapter 2

As she knew he would, Richard turned up five minutes early, just as Camille was putting on her jewellary. When Catherine answered the door, she raised her eyebrows.

"No tie," she smiled.

"Brilliant powers of observation," Richard said, fighting the urge to put his hand up to his neck again. It just felt wrong not wearing a tie. "Is Camille ready?"

"I'll get her."

"Tell her I'll wait with the car."

As he waited, Richard stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, again trying to forget the fact that he was out without a tie. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't worn one. He must've been about fourteen. No, younger than that surely. Someone clearing their throat behind him broke through his thoughts. Richard turned around and all thoughts of ties left his head as he stared at Camille. She smiled.

"I didn't think you would actually come without the tie. I'm impressed," she said, walking towards him. Instinctivly, his hand went to his throat and she laughed.

"You look...incredible," he said at last, when his powers of speech returned.

"Thank you," she replied, blushing slightly. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Being the perfect gentleman as always, Richard opened the car door for her before getting in himself. During the car journey, the conversation turned towards work, their most comfortable territory, occasionally stealing glances towards each other and looking away quickly if caught. Camille thought about how good he looked without the tie, more relaxed, less official. Richard thought about how the green of her dress suited her and showed off her incredible legs tastefully, as opposed to the mega mini skirts that were the norm in London when he left. When they arrived at Sebastien's, he held the door for her again, before offering her his arm. Smiling, Camille slipped her hand onto the crook of his elbow.

The table overlooked the sea, facing west, had a perfect view of the soon to be setting sun. While reading the menu, they continued glancing at each other, although now when Camille caught Richard, she didn't immediately look away, but smiled.

"Do you have anything that isn't seafood?" Richard asked when the waiter returned. The man looked confused.

"No sir, this is a seafood restaurant," he replied. Camille held back a laugh.

"Well, what can you recommend that doesn't have eyes?" This time she failed to contain her laughter. The poor waiter looked even more confused before suggesting a fish dish that did not have eyes to the best of his knowledge.

"What?" Richard frowned, once the waiter left, noticing Camille's laughter.

"You just asked if a seafood restaurant had anything that wasn't seafood," she replied. "Then you asked for something without eyes."

"I don't like it staring at me when I eat it." Which sent her into another fit of laughter.

As they ate, Camille told him more about her training in Paris, and the work she'd done undercover. She told him stories of the Inspector who'd taught her group during training, who would often go off on long winded, rambling stories that never seemed to get anywhere and never seemed to be related to the topic. She even managed to get a smile from Richard during an impression of the Inspector.

"I have been talking all night, I think it's your turn," she said, taking a sip of wine as the waiters took away their main course plates.

"You're much more interesting than me," he replied.

"I doubt that," Camille smiled. "Tell about London."

"It's grey, cold, there's no sand and very little sun. A little slice of heaven. There, London in a sentance. I told you you were more interesting."

"I'm not. I'm just me," she shrugged.

"You're fascinating," he said quietly. Camille felt herself blush again, and cursed herself for it. How could this annoying man have so much power over her? And he didn't even realise it.

It was good seeing her laugh and smile again. He'd even missed their arguments about whether or not he was right, which he usually was. The last week and a half she'd just stared at him, daring him to contradict her, her eyes cold. Now they sparkled and made her look even more beautiful. He could think of plenty reasons why this shouldn't and wouldn't work, but in the end he didn't really care about them. He cared about Camille.

XOXOXOX

"I had a really good time," Camille said as they drew up outside her home.

"Me too," Richard admitted. "Despite the fact that my dinner clearly had eyes and the waiter obviously didn't."

"You're not going to start that again, are you? You chewed the poor guy out enough."

"I said no eyes!"

"You're impossible," she replied, shaking her head.

"So... Did I... Did I earn my second chance?" he asked, suddenly worried he'd blown it. Smiling, Camille leaned over and kissed his cheek before climbing out. He wound down the window. "Is that a yes?" he called.

"It's not a no," she replied, blowing him a kiss.


End file.
